My Brother, My Friend
by ceilidh65
Summary: A 'missing scene' story, the first in a multi-chaptered series, set after Twisted Sister - and Sarah still needs her big brother. As always, I hope you enjoy - please R&R if you do!
1. Chapter 1 Protective Custody

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Hello again, all, and welcome to - yes, you've guessed it, another 'missing scene' story. And yes, I know I've already written one for Twisted Sister, but when I finished Troubled Brother, this plot-bunny started hopping around my head, and it's now multiplied (as bunnies do) into several separate stories.

This is the first instalment and, hopefully soon, I'll get the rest posted too.

Just to set the scene, this story follows directly on from Troubled Brother. It's several days since the events of Twisted Sister, and - well, let's just say that not everyone is coping with the fall-out.

Spoilers, of course, for Twisted Sister, and a brief reference to Probie. As always, I hope you enjoy - please R&R if you do!

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My Brother, My Friend

Chapter One - Protective Custody

Prologue

Post-case paperwork. If there was one constant bane to a federal agent's life, this had to be it. Little wonder, then, that Jethro Gibbs gladly accepted any distraction from it that he could find.

With three constantly squabbling kids around, of course, life in the bullpen was rarely dull, or quiet – today's entertainment causing him to smile and shake his head, as only a long- suffering father could.

Tim McGee, federal agent, computer genius, all round Mr Nice-Guy, and now best-selling novelist, was trying to fend off his latest 'admirers'

Well, maybe not 'admirers' as such. Two colleagues who wanted to lynch him was more like it – his cellphone, held nervously in front of him, offering little protection as he struggled to answer it.

Ten seconds later, the threat of 'wedgie-death' by a Mossad assassin was the least of his worries – the frivolity around him stopping, instantly, as Tim's voice rose by several, unassisted octaves.

"She's _what_?!? When? What happened? Is she okay?"

Listening for several moments, Tim then nodded and hung up, his face now as white as his shirt. If he was aware of Tony's hand on his shoulder, or Ziva's quiet concern, he was too shaken to show it. And long before two anxious glances reached him, Gibbs was already striding to Tim McGee's desk.

As the parent in him so poignantly knew, only one kind of call could turn you so instantly pale as this – his reaction the only thing he could say as Gibbs grabbed Tim's coat, and practically threw him into it.

"Call us when you can. Now, _go!_"

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Her classmates had the usual selection of bed-time comforters. Cuddly toys. Date-books. Boyfriends. And if they could see where, and how, she was spending _her_ night, they'd have a bitching field-day.

Sleeping in your brother's bed, while _he_ was in it? Just hours ago, even she'd thought '_eeeew_!'

Right now, though, wrapped in warmth, and love, and safety, she just gratefully thought '_mmmm-_'

Usually, of course, when she stayed with him, he'd gallantly forsake his home-comforts for hers – uncomfortably scrunched into the confines of his sleeping bag, while she stretched out in cosy, king-size luxury.

But as she felt a strong arm tighten, in gentle protectiveness around her, Sarah McGee smiled – sensing that her equally trashed-out brother was as grateful for this break from the norm as she was.

And if _she_'_d_ been freaked out by that collapse during her lecture, she knew it went ten-fold for him. She could still guiltily picture the panic on his face when he'd received the call that _every_ big brother dreads.

'_Agent McGee_? _This is Dean Baker_, _it_'_s_ _nothing to worry about_, _but_… _well_, _Sarah_'_s taken ill, she's fainted in class, and_…'

Twenty minutes later, he'd swept into Waverly's sick-room, that panic still etched deep into his eyes.

If a murder rap against your sister was bad, hearing she'd collapsed during her lecture ran a damn close second. And as he'd wrapped her against him, she'd guiltily noted that he was as shaken by it as she was.

So yes, to hell with the freakiness. Right now, _both_ of them needed the comfort of a big, snuggly bed.

And, more now than ever before, Sarah needed this simple, but so comforting, contact between them. If just for tonight, she needed him to hold her. She needed the security that only he could provide.

She'd never really appreciated it until now, and she knew her rebellion against it had often hurt him. But as she gratefully hugged him back, Sarah knew she'd been blessed with the best comforter of all.

When you were angry and scared, still so terrified by your own memories that you fainted in class – yes, there was no safer place in the world, no better place to be, than snuggling up to your big brother. And if that big brother happened to be a federal agent who carried a gun – oh yeah, so much the better.

To Gibbs and his colleagues, he was a mix of names and curious, increasingly unflattering nicknames. To her puzzled surprise, though, he was never _Tim_ – always McGee, or McGeek, or McGoo, or probie.

But for his still traumatised little sister, Tim McGee now held just one, pricelessly unique title. He was her perennially protective big brother, the best friend she could ever ask for, who –

"-you okay? If you're cold, I can get another blanket-"

– could still fuss and fret over her, every bit as anxiously, as he'd done back in that college sick-room.

Until today, she'd have nailed him for it. She'd fought him on it, for as long as she could remember. Now, though, she smiled up at him and shook her head while curling herself just a little bit closer – her own body ironically betraying her, though, to eyes that saw everything, and missed nothing.

Watching her settle against him, Tim frowned slightly as he tucked the duvet back over her shoulders.

She didn't really need it, of course. From its subtle hum of heating, his bedroom could never be cold. And there was enough of him, and a full size duvet, wrapped around her to keep any threat of it at bay.

No, Tim knew that shudder he'd just felt run through her couldn't be from the night-chill outside. It had come from fear, the trauma of what she'd been through, the horrors of what might have been – the tearful whisper that now escaped from his chest silently breaking the anxious heart beneath it.

"His _face_, Tim. I – I just keep seeing his _face-_"

Closing his eyes in quiet sympathy, Tim quickly re-opened them to avoid his own mental torment. One year on, and John Benedict's death still held a cruel grip on both his memory and his conscience.

He'd deal with that haunting guilt later, in his own private way, but right now he had other priorities – wrapping Sarah against him, needing to comfort himself now, as much as he needed to comfort her.

"I know, Sarah, I know… sssh, it's okay, it's all over. It's alright, Sarah, it's gonna be okay-"

Even as he quietly said them, Tim knew these words of reassurance were still cruelly hollow. From still raw experience, he knew nothing he said right now could stop these tears on his shoulder.

Even if she couldn't, or wouldn't, admit it, Tim knew that his little sister, his Sarah, was scared.

No, scratch that, she was terrified - shaken to the core by something she should _never_ have faced. She'd seen Jeff Petty brutally killed in front of her, and had almost taken the rap for his murder.

It was something that should never have happened, and Tim was still quietly furious that it had.

There wasn't a malicious bone in his body, but when Madison Kline had smirked at him, so smugly – hell, if Sarah hadn't slapped that damn grin from her face, he'd have gladly done it instead.

Even with Tony's steadying presence beside him, it had taken all his self-control not to react – the professionalism of his training crashing against the bitter fury that he'd felt towards her.

She'd set his little sister up to be raped, and framed her just as ruthlessly for murder, and – no.

Closing his eyes again, Tim kept them closed this time as he breathed deeply, regaining control.

'_No_, _McGee. F__or God_'_s_ _sake_, _for __all__ our sakes_, _do __not__ go there_. _It_'_s_ _over_. _Let it go-_'

Easier said than done, of course, especially as Sarah continued to cry helplessly against him.

Gradually, though, the torrent on his shoulder slowed to a shaky trickle, then stopped completely. And, to Tim's relief, the fear, and the tremors that came with it, were starting to ease too.

As exhaustion started to take its place, he could feel her head growing heavier against his shoulder – and Tim smiled as he rested his chin on top of Sarah's head, and gratefully settled in for phase two.

She'd stopped crying. She'd stopped shaking. And that meant she was ready to be rocked.

From years of practice, from toddler-monsters under her bed right through to her current demons – oh yes, if there was one thing that Tim McGee was good at, it was rocking his little sister to sleep.

Not too fast, and not too slow. Just this soothing movement, smooth and steady, from side to side. And, Tim now gratefully noted as he felt Sarah relax against him, it was already starting to work. The crushing exhaustion which had caused her collapse was finally working in her favour now.

A few more minutes, and it would be sufficiently close to allow her to sleep, allow _him_ to sleep, and –

"I could murder a pizza right now-"

– then again, Tim dryly corrected himself, maybe not. And trust his little sister to see things differently. If there was any way to throw him for a complete loop – yes, he knew his Sarah would find it.

To his more serious relief, though, she was settled enough now to find a smile for him, too – a teasing lift of his eyebrow returned with a light, 'say-it-and-I'll-murder-_you_…' slap on his chest.

Grinning back at her, Tim gave her an equally proud, freely returned hug, before climbing out of bed. He'd been too worried about her to notice it before, of course, but – yeah, he was kinda hungry too. And what else was the midnight hour for, but the timeless tradition of midnight-munchies?

She'd been too upset to eat when he'd brought her home, and he'd known better than force her to try. As all that thankfully passed, Tim knew they could both eat now, _and_ manage to keep it down.

Pizza, though, at _this_ time of night? Especially with her taste, or lack thereof, in toppings?

He had some pickles in the fridge, and peanut butter, too, but – damn, he was fresh out of Tabasco.

'_Aw_, _gee_, _what a shame-_'

Still grinning at that last thought, Tim then quietly laughed aloud as he searched on through his larder. His sister's taste in pizza was thankfully out – but what he'd found instead would be very much _in_.

If ambrosia was the food of mythical gods, then buttery popcorn was the food of sleepless mortals. And when you were as thoroughly tired and wired as this – yeah, you needed one hell of a lot of it.

Set neatly on Tim McGee's lap, a fresh bowl of Redenbacher's finest was taking one almighty hit – most of it, Tim noted in quiet satisfaction, heading more towards his little sister's mouth than his.

This might not be the most nutritious way to get her blood sugar back up to a healthier level, but – yeah, Tim thought through a happily relieved smile, what the hell did it matter? It was working.

Her colour was better now, and she'd stopped crying. More encouragingly still, she was ready to talk.

Well no, Tim dryly corrected himself, she wasn't ready to talk, she was ready to do what she did best.

Scooping up another handful, Sarah studied it for a moment, then squinted suspiciously up at him.

"This _is_ low fat butter, right? I don't want to go into school tomorrow looking like cousin Mattie-"

Pulling a face back at her, Tim then grinned as he helped himself, while he could, to what was left.

"It is. And don't worry, you won't… hey, I didn't lose all that weight to just pile it all back on again-"

There was a sisterly insult in there somewhere – but to Tim's relief, _his_ little sister couldn't find it. Instead, curling back into a snug huddle of brother and duvet, Sarah nodded in distracted agreement – her reply, when it finally came, throwing him on one of the biggest loops he'd ever known.

"You see faces like Jeff's all the time, don't you?" she said at last, glancing hesitantly up at him – encouraged by the calm smile she found there to find a new, and crucial, understanding between them.

"I – I mean, when you're called out to crime scenes… well, you must also see much worse, and… Tim, how do you deal with it? How can you see it, day in and day out, and not let it get to you?"

Recovering himself, Tim then smiled back at her while answering her with the same, gentle honesty.

"Because I have to, Sarah. I've been taught and trained to be objective, to just get the job done, and… well, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, they all see the same things, too. We face the same horrors, and we all get each other through it-"

Realizing he was on the verge of lecturing her, something he knew she didn't need, Tim paused – re-gathering his thoughts, and his composure, before quietly voicing the regret that still haunted him.

"I'm used to it, Sarah, but you _aren_'_t_, and… well, I just wish you hadn't gone through this-"

To his surprise, she didn't just smile at that, she shook her head too as she took his hand – repaying countless years of his support and protection in quiet words of both pride and apology.

"No, Tim, I – I think it's good that I did. I've never realized, until now, what your work involves. You see death, and its most horrific causes, every day, and… well, I'm sorry, Tim, for what I said.

What you do, and how you do it, is much more than stating the obvious, and making pretty pie charts. It's hard, and it's complicated, and… well, now I know there's no way in hell that _I_ could do it-"

Still blinking back at her, stunned by this tribute, Tim then smiled - returning it with the same degree of grateful pride.

"Oh, I don't know… the way you worked out that timeline was pretty impressive," he said at last – visibly relaxing with the relief of finally being able to tease her.

"Tracking your actions was just what they taught me at FLETC… and my cap kinda suited you, too-"

Sarah's eyes lit up at that – and when a hopeful grin followed, Tim knew what was coming next.

"Yeah, they're pretty neat for college cred. So you… um, think you can get me one?"

Laughing too much to answer, Tim then sighed and nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing. He'd rarely, if ever, been able to say no to her. There was little point, he dryly reflected, in starting now.

Instead, quietly cherishing this new closeness between them, he drew Sarah into a brotherly hug – slipping back into the role that, for all its trials and tribulations, he wouldn't give up for the world. And judging by the way she hugged him back, she wouldn't be rebelling against it now, _quite_ so much.

To both his proud relief and private gratitude, she then curled herself into his side again – another of those familiar, precious signs that the crisis was past now, and she was ready to sleep.

Watching her settle, and once sure that her eyes had closed, Tim smiled and gratefully did the same. At last, he could get some rest! He was in enough trouble with Tony already, but if he were to crash out on that stake-out tomorrow – yes, his surrogate brother, best friend, and frequent bane of his life would make sure he'd _never_ forget it.

Asleep within minutes, he was oblivious, this time, to the movement of Sarah's head against his chest – equally unaware of the frown on her face, and the concern in her eyes, as she quietly studied him.

He was her rock, her protector, who'd raised big brotherhood, and keeping her safe, into an art form.

Who'd keep _him_ safe, though, in a career that held so much horror? That could so easily kill him? Who could keep her irreplaceable big brother safe?

As she watched him sleep, Sarah McGee knew there was only one person, someone she barely knew but who would still understand her fears, who could fully answer that question.


	2. Chapter 2 Worst Case Scenario

Worst Case Scenario by ceilidh

A/N: Thanks to everyone who kindly reviewed My Brother, My Friend :o) As promised, here's the next instalment. It's pretty short, and sets the scene for the next one - and yes, the teaser at the start is _really_ mean of me. Well, what else do you expect? ;o)

Enjoy!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Two - Worst Case Scenario

Teaser: - "Tony, for the last time, I _don_'_t _need the hospital, okay? It's just a scratch, and- _ow..._!!"

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Paperwork.

It was like a colony of rabbits. Left overnight, the stuff multiplied with the same damn speed. And, unlike yesterday, Gibbs knew he didn't have his Three Stooges around to distract him from it. Ziva was checking leads for their latest case, while DiNozzo and McGee took its associative stake-out.

So until they returned, and he could 'delegate' some of this junk on his desk, he was on his own.

Still glaring at the piles of files in front of him, Gibbs then sighed and resigned himself to his fate – fighting down the urge to line them all up, take out his gun, and take his latest quals a few weeks early.

Instead, glancing in silent envy along three unoccupied, file-free desks, he sat down and set wearily to work – dryly thinking that Larry, Moe and Curly would be having a _lot_ more fun this afternoon than him.

Still smiling at the thought, Gibbs then grinned as he pictured how they'd react to their new name-tags.

Tony would be thrilled, of course, and McGee would blink at him, as only Tim McGee could, while Ziva – yeah, for the sake of his health, and to keep him breathing, he'd better come up with a safer nickname for his Mossad liaison.

Batgirl, maybe, with Batman and the Boy Wonder in faithful tow? Oh yeah, that was _much_ better.

And to imagine DiNozzo and McGee wearing tights under their boxers… no, Gibbs, _don_'_t_ go there!

Only one thing could make him have thoughts like that - a frowning glance at his coffee confirming his worst suspicions.

'_Damn eyesight. M__ust_'_ve_ _picked up someone else_'_s_ _decaf-_'

He'd gone for the deluxe size, too. Double damn.

Sourly tossing his unthinkable, undrinkable beverage into his trash-bin, Gibbs then rose to his feet – his mood really not helped, at all, by the security guard who now took his life in his hands by blocking his path. Anyone who dared to keep Jethro Gibbs from his coffee was either _very_ brave, _very_ stupid, or both.

But then, as he recognised who stood nervously with him, the glare changed into a puzzled frown. After what she'd just been through, she was the last person he'd expected to see back in the bullpen.

"Agent Gibbs? She says she's-"

"Agent McGee's sister. Yeah, she is," Gibbs finished for him, smiling at the guard's reaction. He could understand why he looked so surprised. In appearance, personality, so many more ways, Sarah McGee was _nothing_ like her big brother.

Having said that, the nervousness on her face was strikingly familiar, and unmistakeably McGee – a quizzical glance beyond his shoulder met with a gentle smile now, as Gibbs assumed its cause.

"If you're looking for your brother, I'm afraid he's out on assignment-"

"On stake-out with Tony. Yes, Agent Gibbs, I know," Sarah nodded, smiling back at him – hoping, as an eyebrow quizzically rose, that she hadn't just landed her brother in even more trouble with his unpredictably tempered boss.

"Tim told me, last night, so I'd know he couldn't pick me up from school. I hope that's okay-"

Gibbs had to smile at that. These unhittable, verbal curveballs that took you completely by surprise… yeah, it had to be a McGee thing. And if that wasn't enough, what followed next took him to an instant 'strike three, you're out…'

"Actually, I'm not here to see Tim. If you're not too busy, Agent Gibbs, I was hoping to talk to _you-_"

Gibbs' eyes widened, then narrowed into another frown as he studied her face more closely. It was still pale, of course, from where she'd fainted the previous day, but… no, it was strained, too. And while he knew it was impossible to mind-read a McGee, Gibbs found himself trying it anyway.

"You two have a fight?"

To his relief, she laughed at that - genuinely, too, as she recognised his concern, and gladly accepted it.

"No, we're good. After all the hassle I've caused him, I'm done with the whole fighting-big-brother thing-"

"Even if he drove you nuts fussing over you yesterday?" Gibbs finished for her, grinning too now – knowing, from the face she pulled in response, that his assumption this time was right on the money. When it came to his little sister, Tim McGee took protective big brotherhood to a whole new level.

Just days ago, she'd openly resented him for it. Today, though, proud gratitude had taken its place.

Yet that puzzling strain was still in her eyes as Gibbs led her through the bullpen to the coffee lounge. Something was clearly troubling her, and that famous gut instinct had now identified its likeliest cause.

At best, her brother's work could get him hurt. At worst, without any warning, it could get him killed.

It was the scenario that had always silently haunted Gibbs' dreams – even more so since Kate had died. Now Sarah McGee had realized she faced it too – and it was up to him to make sure it _never_ happened.

He had to ease her fears, too. Fears that he also privately shared, and… yeah, now he _really_ needed that coffee.


	3. Chapter 3 The Perils of Probie

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Aww, more reviews! Thanks, all!

Now, I must admit that I thought about posting the next two chapters in one hit, but then I thought they'd run a bit better separately. And you all love cliffhangers, right?

Don't worry, I won't keep you in suspense for long, I'll be posting the next bit tomorrow, but for now - well, it's cliffie-time!

Enjoy!

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My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Three - The Perils of Probie

If he didn't know his probie so well, DiNozzo might have felt insulted by this silence between them. But as Tony had quickly learned, Tim McGee was a quiet kid. He _liked_ silence. He liked to think. And when he had a lot on his mind, no amount of baiting, teasing or insults would make him react.

If he was at all aware of 'finger-bunny-ears' behind his head, he was too deep in thought to notice. Instead, frowning slightly, he was dividing his attention between his camera and his watch – staring at the latter so intently, and with such restless anxiety, that 'finger-bunny-ears' appropriately stopped.

Well, his fingers were cramping up anyway – and it wasn't as if McGee was going to rise to the bait.

Instead, still covertly watching him, Tony showed his more serious side, as only Tony DiNozzo could.

"Somewhere else you'd rather be, McTimex?"

Startled so much that his camera bounced up on his knees, Tim cast a long-suffering glance sideways – any protest he might have made forestalled by the concern he'd seen beyond his friend's teasing grin.

Pulling a suitable face back at him, he then returned that concern with a tiredly grateful smile.

"Sarah's taking her mid-term today, and… well, she should be finishing it just about now-"

That latent concern was more evident now as Tony recalled the events from the previous day. So understandably for the trauma she'd gone through, Sarah McGee had collapsed in class – and, despite a crassly misnamed 'don't worry...' phone call, she'd given her brother the fright of his life.

Despite all the horrors they'd faced together, he'd never seen Tim McGee's face turn so pale, so fast, as when he'd taken that call – a brotherly hand on his shoulder met with as much shy gratitude now as it had been then.

"She okay now?"

"Well, she _said_ she was when I asked her this morning," Tim admitted, shrugging his shoulders – the frown on his face suggesting that he hadn't been convinced then, and still wasn't convinced now.

"But she still looked kinda shaky when I dropped her off, and… well, this is an important exam, Tony, and I'm not sure that she's fit enough to take it. I tried to suggest that she ask for a postponement, but that… uh… didn't go down too well-"

"So I see," Tony grinned, nodding towards a telltale smear of bright red jam on Tim's sleeve – loving the face that Tim pulled in response as he tried, with little success, to clean it off.

"I never knew breakfast could be so dangerous."

"It is with my little sister around," Tim shot back - relaxed enough now to grin, if ruefully, back at him. "Since she was five, Tony… jammy-toast frisbees a specialty-"

"Since she was _five_? Guess that explains why her aim's so good," Tony agreed just as dryly – his next thoughts tumbling out before the 'tact and diplomacy' button in his brain could fully engage.

"She's also smart, cute and _waaaay_ better looking that you. You sure you're related?"

A long-suffering eye-roll was a promising sign. So was the rueful laughter that eventually followed.

"You know, Gibbs asked me that too. I could get a complex here," Tim said at last, still chuckling through an openly proud afterthought.

"Yeah, as much as I wonder myself sometimes, her birth certificate proves it. She _is_ my sister-"

There was another teasing insult in there somewhere. But, for once, it had to pass Tony DiNozzo by. Instead, alerted by movement on the pier in front of them, he lightly nudged the edge of Tim's arm – a shared glance between them taking them away from carefree banter, into a far more dangerous world.

Five hours of tedious watching and waiting had finally paid off. Their contraband suspects had arrived.

Intel suggested they were handling an arms shipment – enough weaponry to supply a small army. If it reached them, if even a fraction of those guns reached the extremist cell that planned to use them – well, that was a thought that two federal agents who'd have to pick up the pieces did _not_ want to finish.

As they slid out of the sedan and took position, Tony cast another glance towards his young friend – allowing himself a slight smile for the pure, focussed determination he now saw on Tim McGee's face

His shy, sweet-natured probie could take care of himself, but... well, he'd thought the same about Kate. And, as Tony DiNozzo bitterly knew, making such assumptions was a damn dangerous thing to do.

You could be standing on a rooftop one minute, happily sure that the threat had passed, and the next –

"– Tony, get down!!!"


	4. Chapter 4 Blood Brothers

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Aha, so my evil cliff-hanger worked!! *evil grin* That's what I like to see!

Okay, to all those who are thinking the worst (don't worry, I could never bend our sweet Timothy too much, he's much too cute for that!!) here's the chapter you've been waiting for. Now, what could possibly be worse for our imperiled probie than being shot at? Well, you'll find out at the end - enjoy!!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Four - Blood Brothers

Seeking what shelter he could, from volleys of gunfire around him, Tony DiNozzo allowed himself a quiet curse of frustration. If this was a wild-west movie, this would be a damn fine time to circle the wagons, call up The Duke, and watch him lead his cavalry over the hill to the rescue.

That cavalry, a squad of Metro's finest, _were_ on their way – but not fast enough for DiNozzo's liking. Bursts of gunfire still thundered wildly around them, making it impossible to claim a clear shot – and he really didn't need McGee's anxious glance to tell him that they were hopelessly outnumbered, and in _serious_ trouble.

Finally, though, a wail of sirens joined in the chaos of noise, turning the odds back in their favour – and when running feet replaced whizzing bullets, both knew they could break cover, chase their assailants down, and teach the ruffians who'd tried to kill them one hell of a lesson.

Tony was lucky with his chase - taking down his quarry with a linebacker's tackle that would have done his college football coach proud.

While Tony's suspect had provided him with a soft landing, though, McGee hadn't been so lucky. _His_ chase had taken him right across the docking bay towards a nearby warehouse – a clattering crash of trash-cans causing Tony to smile now, as he trotted instinctively towards it.

Where there was chaos, calamity, and piles of stinking garbage – yep, there you'd find probie.

He'd caught his suspect, too, and a Metro unit were already hustling him away. That was the good news.

The bad news, though? Well, not surprisingly, the kid was a mess, covered head to toe in trash. And while this would normally trigger no end of razzing, Tony couldn't do it this time. In fact, he could barely manage a smile. The pain he now saw on Tim McGee's face just wouldn't allow it.

He'd clearly taken one hell of a tumble through those trash-cans, and Tony knew it must have hurt. The left sleeve of his jacket was a mess, too - and fresh smears of red on Tim's fingers, where he'd clamped them over his forearm, definitely _weren_'_t_ from the remnants of a jammy-toast-frisbee.

The fact that McGee could look at it, though, without turning _too_ green, was a more heartening sign – because if one thing could flip this kid's stomach like a pancake, it was the sight of blood.

It was a favourite, long running joke between them – one that Tony never tired of exploiting.

All teasing insults were out, though, for the moment at least, as he tugged at Tim's fingers.

"C'mon, probie, let me see," he said gently - the complete trust he saw in Tim's eyes speaking volumes for the depth of faith this kid had in him.

"It's just a scratch, Tony," Tim assured him through tellingly gritted teeth, trying his best to find a smile. "Must've caught myself going through those cans."

"Yeah, it doesn't look like a bullet crease. And trust me, I've seen plenty of those," Tony agreed – his relieved grin fading considerably, though, as Tim flinched against the pressure he was applying.

"It's still pretty deep, though, probie. You're gonna need stitches-"

_Now_ Tim McGee's face paled, significantly, as another childhood phobia reared its nightmarish head.

"That… um… th-that's gonna mean a local, right?"

Thankfully too engrossed in checking his arm to notice the unease on his face, Tony just nodded – staring, in real surprise, at both the vehemence of Tim's next words, and the silent plea in his eyes.

"It's just a scratch, Tony. Really, I - I don't need the hospital, it – it's gonna be fine with just a bandage-"

"Probie-"

"Tony, for the last time, I _don_'_t_ need the hospital, okay? It's just a scratch, and - _ow_!!!"

"That 'ow…' suggests otherwise, probie, and… hey, who's the senior agent around here?"

"That would be _you_, Tony-"

"And who's the probie… _probie_?"

"That would be me. Bu-"

"So who do you think is gonna win this argument?"

"If this arm wasn't such a mess, I'd wrestle you for it"

A pause, then. Several more seconds of an irresistible force in stand-off against an immoveable object.

Then, at last, a sigh of resignation.

"You know what's worse than a smartass, Tony?"

"Why, no, probie! What _is_ worse than a smartass?"

"A smartass who's _right-_"

Grinning wickedly back at him, Tony then looped his hand under Tim's arm to help him to his feet – wrapping that hand, and its entire arm, around Tim's waist as he wobbled shakily against him.

"Easy, big guy… Dr DiNozzo's gotcha-"

Tim McGee's eyes swivelled towards him, narrowing in the deepest disdain that he could manage.

"_Doctor_ DiNozzo?!?"

"Why sure, probie! Yeah, I've done some self-doctoring in my time. In fact, when I was back at college, I took this gash along my leg that…"

Knowing better than to interrupt, Tim just shook his head, and let Tony lead him back to the car.

Whether he liked it or not, he _was_ going to need a doctor, a _proper_ doctor, to stitch up his arm, and – now, there was a thought that sweetly lifted his spirits as Tony droned blissfully on beside him. Maybe if he kicked out at the right moment, that syringe full of local would miss _him_, and hit DiNozzo's mouth instead.


	5. Chapter 5 Taking Care of Timothy

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Aww, more reviews! Thank you - and yes, as you might have guessed, I had great fun writing that last chapter. You've just gotta love those boys!

For this chapter, though, it's back to Sarah and Gibbs, simply because I would have loved to have seen this discussion between them in the episode. So this is just my take on how big boss and little sister might agree to "take care of Timothy". As always, I hope you enjoy!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Five - Taking Care of Timothy

Aaaah. Coffee. Full strength, king-size, caffeine-laden pleasure. Yes, at last, his world felt right again.

Even as he gratefully drained his cup, though, Gibbs kept a watchful eye on the one opposite him. He'd got through two so far, and Sarah McGee was still nursing her first, but – well, no, give her time. If there was one thing he'd learned from mentoring her brother, it was that you couldn't rush a McGee.

You could whack him round the head a few times, of course, and growl all sorts of threats against him. If he tried that on the young woman in front of him, though – well, Gibbs dryly reflected, _he_'_d_ risk getting whacked instead. Hell had no fury like Tim McGee in defence of his little sister.

And if McGee couldn't bring himself to whack his boss, he didn't doubt for one second that Sarah would. She'd slapped Madison Kline so hard, two times over, that she'd actually split the cheerleader's lip.

So yes, Sarah McGee had quite the temper on her – maybe she'd inherited her brother's share, too. It would certainly explain why McGee was so placid - such a striking difference between them that Sarah McGee now, ir rather ruefully, addressed.

"You must think I'm some kind of ungrateful brat, Agent Gibbs, for how I treated Tim last week. And I bet you wondered if we're even related-"

With a tact and diplomacy that even silently stunned _him_, Gibbs just shrugged while sipping his coffee.

"You're both… _different_. But there's nothing wrong in that, Sarah. You're smart and intelligent, and every bit as unique as he is. And you're _definitely _related. Be proud of that-"

A wry smile told him that was easier said than done - quiet words confirming it, as Sarah confided the secret which had silently haunted throughout her life.

"It's been hard sometimes, Agent Gibbs, growing up with a genius in the family. I - I mean, my parents have always supported me, as much as they've done Tim, but… well, he's never been as troublesome, or rebellious, as me.

He was always this perfect, boy-scout big brother, and… well, I always felt I was in his shadow, you know? I always felt I was a disappointment against him, that I could never achieve what he's managed to do-"

"Hey, don't put yourself down," Gibbs cut in softly, giving the rebuke he'd made against her the previous week a gently meaningful twist. "You're every bit as smart, and gifted, as he is. And believe me, hundreds of people out there owe their lives to his abilities. As you say, he _is_ a genius.

But above everything else, Sarah, above all that, he's _your_ big brother. Let him _be_ that, and let yourself take care of him in return. You're obviously close, and you can clearly talk to each other about anything. And there's a lot of stress in this job, Sarah. A lot of bad things, and bad memories, that he needs to talk about."

"Yeah, that cop's death last year really upset him. And he was just devastated when Kate died," Sarah admitted quietly, pausing for a moment as she confronted the fear which had brought her to see him in the first place. And when she finally re-met his eyes, Gibbs could see that fear within them – the quiet, hesitant words that eventually followed confirming what his gut had already told him.

"Is – Is Tim okay, Agent Gibbs? I mean, I know he's happy here, and he loves what he does, but… well, he worries so much about looking out for other people, making sure they're okay, that-"

"…sometimes he forgets to look out for himself-" Gibbs finished for her, smiling in wry agreement – deciding this _wasn_'_t_ the time to reveal how much, and how often, he'd exploited that part of Tim McGee's character.

His compassion, a shared asset that Gibbs respected him so much for, was also his greatest weakness. He'd been hurt, so many times, because of it – but that wasn't what was troubling his little sister.

Far greater fear betrayed itself in eyes that were every bit as expressive, and revealing, as her brother's.

Gibbs understood that fear. He silently shared it, every single day, six times over. Now he tried to gently allay it.

"I won't lie to you, Sarah. I wouldn't insult your intelligence by trying," he said at last – reaching over the table, taking her hand, so that she couldn't doubt, or misinterpret, what he said next.

"Yes, Tim's in a dangerous job, but… Sarah, your brother is one of the best agents I've ever known. He's brilliant, too, and he's been trained to react on his instincts, but he also knows his limits. He's got the sense to know his limitations. It's the agents who _don_'_t_ who tend to get careless, and-"

"…they're the ones who get killed," Sarah cut in softly, finishing his sentence as he'd finished hers – smiling back at him, in real appreciation, for the priceless strength she now gratefully recognised.

"I can see why Tim thinks so much of you, Agent Gibbs. Why he loves working with you, how he's learned so much from you. And why he trusts you with his life."

Another trait she shared with her brother – straight and honest talking, straight from the heart. Little wonder, then, that Gibbs was so proud to offer her his arm as they both rose from their chairs.

"That's mutual, Sarah. We _have_ to trust each other, _totally_, every time we step out that door. It's how we survive," he said at last – deciding there was enough of a bond between them now to slip a fatherly arm around her shoulders.

"And you may not have seen it last week, with the way Tony and Ziva, even me, teased him over his book, but… no, however much we may razz him, Tim still has the best team in this agency to protect him. Tony and Ziva, _and_ me, we'll _all_ do whatever it takes, Sarah, to keep him safe. We'll always do whatever we can, _everything_ we can, to keep him alive."

He'd said all he could to ease her fears - and the smile she now gave him told him he'd succeeded. And it touched him, more than she'd ever know when, if still rather shyly, she hugged him back. It was such a simple gesture of the trust and faith she'd placed in him, but it was still so precious.

Gibbs still knew, though, that Sarah McGee wouldn't be fully convinced until she saw her brother – that crucial, living proof that he'd come through another life-or-death day, and survived it unscathed.

And with DiNozzo there to protect him, Gibbs knew that, as they returned to the bullpen, they'd find –

– Tim McGee, cunningly disguised as a human trash-can, limping gingerly out of the elevator.

Supporting him, trying not to make his worry _too_ obvious, came his very own big brother – their eyes widening, in perfect synchronisation, as Sarah set off a four-way crossfire of names.

"_Tim_?!?!"

"_Sarah_?!?!"

"DiNozzo?!?"

"Boss?!?"

Trading stunned glances with his equally mortified partner in crime, Tim McGee then groaned – summing up his day with a writer's natural eloquence as he re-met his sister's wide, horrified eyes.

"Oh, _crap-_"


	6. Chapter 6 The First Duty

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Oooh, more reviews! Thanks so much, I'm thrilled that you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Now, after that last chapter, I'm sure you're wondering how Sarah's going to react to seeing Tim hurt, and how Tony's going to explain himself to her, and Gibbs. Well, as you read on, I hope you'll enjoy finding out!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Six - The First Duty

Debrief. The part of every mission that Tony DiNozzo hated - _especially_ when that mission went wrong.

Luckily, it hadn't gone as horrifically wrong as it could have done. And yes, they'd achieved their objective. Five smugglers were safe in custody, their shipment of contraband arms under equally secure guard.

But if Tim McGee hadn't spotted that sniper, yelled that warning, and taken that sniper out – well, then his parents might have received the phone call that every parent, of every child, dreads. The same call that Gibbs had made, so brokenly, to Kate Todd's equally devastated family.

Instead, his probie was blessedly safe - if rather bent and bloodied around the edges.

Now, as he washed himself clean of that blood, and God knew what else had been caked all over him, and let Ducky check him over, Tony faced his own daunting task – one he dreaded almost as much as that unthinkable phone call.

He had to tell his grim-faced boss, and his best friend's ashen-faced sister, what had happened. He had to explain why Tim McGee had returned from a safe, simple stake-out with a ruined jacket, a badly twisted knee, and fifteen stitches in his arm.

Thanks to a head nurse who was somehow immune to the kid's puppy-eyed charms -

_'You really need to wear this sling, Agent McGee-' _

_'No, I don't-' _

_'For the last time, young man - yes, you do,'_

- he'd left Bethesda Hospital's emergency room with his arm in that sling, and a new phobia of scary head nurses.

For all his protests, or maybe because he was terrified that Tony would drive him straight back to Bethesda if he dared to remove it, Tim McGee had dutifully worn his sling all the way back to NCIS - the pout on his face so priceless that Tony had felt damn tempted to put his camera-phone to fiendishly good use.

Much more seriously, though, Tony was uneasily convinced that his butt was about to join it. He'd learned, the hard way, that Gibbs was at his most dangerous when his voice was as quiet as this.

"What happened, Tony?"

"Snipers, boss. Well hidden. Luckily, McGee spotted them while we still had cover, and took the first one out," Tony replied just as softly, hoping not to alarm Sarah McGee even more than she was already - addressing his next, carefully chosen words directly to the person who needed to hear them the most.

"He wasn't shot, Sarah, or hit by any sniper-fire. He was hurt in a flukish accident, catching his arm on the edge of a trash-can as he brought his suspect down, but… well, I'm still sorry it happened-"

He'd seen, the previous week, that Sarah McGee had one hell of a temper. And when he'd seen her standing there, with Gibbs, seen her reaction to her brother's injuries, he'd silently dreaded the full force of its fury.

Tim McGee could take care of himself, of course, but - well, as senior agent, the kid's safety had still been _his_ responsibilty. And even if Sarah accepted his apology, for how and why her brother had got hurt, he'd still feel silently guilty.

So it was with immeasurable relief that he now saw Sarah smile back at him. And, so much better than that, she also joyously dumped her big brother right into 'razz-the-rookie' heaven.

"It's okay, Tony, he's always been a klutz. You name it, Tim will fall over it. When I was ten, he took a header right down our stairs-"

"Only because _you_'_d_ left _your_ roller skates on the top step," came an equally dry voice behind her – Sarah's instant, unmoved response suggesting it was still a favourite, much-loved joke between them.

"Well, if _you'd_ watched where you were going, instead of walking around with your nose buried in your MIT books-"

Realizing, from long experience, that this was one argument he'd _never_ win, Tim just rolled his eyes. And, just as he'd hoped, Sarah was already celebrating victory, striding happily into a one-armed hug – wrapping herself, _carefully_, around a brother who looked much better than he'd done half an hour ago.

He was clean for a start, showered spotless from the reeking garbage that had covered him before. And even she had to admit that he looked cute – in fact, he looked _damn_ cute – in the scrubs which Ducky had lent him until he could find some fresh clothes. So yes, her smitten new room-mate had a worrying valid point. Her big, buff brother _was_ kinda hunky.

More than that, though, so pricelessly more than anything else, he was so solidly, huggably, _alive_ – still reassuring her, as only he could, as a tremor of relief shook itself, inevitably, onto his shoulder.

"I'm okay, Sarah. It's alright, I'm fine. I'm okay - just a bit sore, with some stitches in my arm, and a terminal _hatred_ of garbage-"

Waiting until a muffled giggle replaced muted sniffles, Tim then glanced expectantly at Gibbs.

"I'll just get changed, boss, and see Sarah home. Then I'll be back to write my report, and-"

"No, you won't, Tim," Gibbs told him quietly, smiling slightly as Tim's eyes widened in surprise – his next words causing those eyes to pop out so much that they almost rolled clear out of their sockets.

"Take it from me, Tim, paperwork can _always_ wait. It's late anyway, so do it first thing tomorrow. Get changed, and go get some air with your sister instead. I think _both_ of you could use it-"

He'd only stressed two simple words, with a quiet subtlety that had been missed by everyone else. But, as always, Tim McGee had still caught this gentle reminder of his priorities, his first duty – expressing his gratitude for it in a nod, a heartfelt smile, as he led Sarah towards the locker-rooms.

It had been a private moment between them. But, it seemed, Tony had now caught its meaning too – the thoughtful smile on his senior agent's face causing his to widen as well, in gentle amusement.

"Something on your mind, DiNozzo?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Tony turned to face him - encouraged enough, by the understanding he found there, to grin back and sheepishly explain himself.

"It's just… well, it's just kinda hard, you know, to believe how much he's changed. I mean, he was our probie, boss, our baby… and suddenly he's this butt-kicking big brother-"

Gibbs had to smile at that. He'd never admit it, of course, but… yes, Tony had a definite point. Although Ziva was now the baby of the team, Tim McGee would still always keep a claim on it too.

Tony had quite a claim on him, too. Gibbs knew they shared a bond that was unique. So very, _very_, special.

After what had been one hell of a day, where that bond had so nearly been lost, this seemed the perfect time to remind him what it was - and gently assure him that he wasn't to blame for what had happened.

"Yeah, he is, DiNozzo, and he's one hell of a good one. Don't you _ever_ forget that," he said at last – a growl of fatherly menace causing a grin of pure, complete happiness to spread over Tony DiNozzo's face.

"And if you let _this_ go to your head, I'll slap it straight out again, but… yeah, _you_'_re_ pretty good at it, too."


	7. Chapter 7 Need To Know

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Hmmm, those plot-bunnies have been at it again. Just when I think I've reached the end of this story, I get another idea, and - well, you can guess the rest!

I was going to say this was the second to last chapter, but somehow - nope, I don't think so! Besides, I think that, after her chat with Gibbs, Sarah might still have a few issues to resolve with her brother. So I wrote this chapter to pave the way. As always, I hope you enjoy!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Seven - Need To Know

As he watched Sarah react to the view before them, Tim McGee allowed himself a quietly happy grin. It was such a simple thing, such a simple plan, that Gibbs had come up with - but its result was everything that he, and its instigator, had hoped it would be.

When they'd returned to the bullpen, Gibbs had led him discreetly aside to make 'a quiet suggestion'. While she was here, and to stop his knee from seizing up, he might as well give his little sister the standard 'ten-cent-tour' of the yard – knowing, full well, that he'd raise that most basic of visitor privileges to at least a full dollar's worth.

More seriously, it would let her see, and appreciate, more of what her brother's work involved. And, with the most importance of all, she'd also see the top-level resources that would keep him safe.

MTAC was off-limits, of course, although he'd quietly explained what it stood for, _and_ its importance. From the way she'd nodded as he led her out of the bullpen, Tim knew she'd understood.

He'd given Interrogation a tactful miss, but she'd still been fascinated by their observation suites. The morgue was _definitely_ out, too, so a discreet call to Ducky had brought him to Abby's lab instead.

Just as he'd expected, two of the most important women in his life had hit it off immediately – finding, in him, an instant common ground that he silently dreaded as much as he'd openly welcomed.

With everything they both knew about him, all his childhood secrets, and rather more _intimate_ quirks – yeah, Tim knew the flak he still faced from 'Tommy' and 'Lisa' would be the very least of his worries.

The sister he loved, in evil cahoots with the woman he loved. He could feel himself going grey already.

Little wonder, then, for his relief that they'd reached the evidence garage with those secrets still safe – although the wicked glint in Abby's eye, reflected in Sarah's, warned him they wouldn't stay that way for long.

Now, cosily arm-in-arm, they'd come out onto the main yard, for that full-dollar-tour's grand finale. And for Tim, this view of DC's skyline, and Sarah's reaction, was worth the gentle ache in his knee.

He was used to it, of course. He saw it every day – and, more often than not, throughout night-time too. For everything that the floodlit Capitol represented, its pure beauty, it was a view he'd always loved.

Judging by the '_yeah_, _not bad-_' smile beside him, Sarah was, if silently, impressed by it too.

But as Tim had rapidly learned, through _both_ their lives, his little sister was nobody's fool. Not even a view as breathtaking as this one could distract her from what was _really_ on her mind – and Tim knew what those thoughts were, long before her arm tightened subconsciously around him.

"I'm okay, Sarah. I was more bent up when I took that header down our stairs," he said at last – knowing, from the way her left eyebrow rose sardonically into her fringe, that she wasn't convinced.

And to add insult to aching injury, she voiced that disgust too, as she hustled him onto a nearby bench.

"If you were 'okay', Tim, you wouldn't be limping like Gramps, or using _me_ as a crutch."

There was a protest in there somewhere – but right now, Tim was too busy rubbing his knee to find it. Instead, pulling a suitable face back at her, he then smiled and drew her closer into a reassuring hug.

"Sarah, it's just a twist, and - hey, some respect here! _Gramps_?!? I'm not even thirty yet!"

That won him a promising smile as Sarah quietly revelled in the age-gap between them. Yet there was still a telltale strain in her eyes as she returned to a much more serious, inevitable point

"Can you tell me what _really_ happened, Tim? Or is it… like, you know, classified, like MTAC?"

Despite the seriousness of that question, Tim couldn't help but smile as he lightly kissed her forehead. For all their many differences, his little sister was every bit as tenacious, and stubborn, as he was. She wouldn't let this rest until he answered her question – which he now did, with another gentle hug.

"No, Sarah, there's nothing secret over what Tony and I did today, and… well, really not much to tell. We were staking out some arms dealers, and as we moved in to arrest them, we were ambushed."

Simple and honest, calmly straight to the point – but, it seemed, not enough to fully settle her fears.

"Yeah, that's what Tony said, and he also said you took that first sniper out. I guess that means you had to kill him?"

Realizing there was more to this sudden interest in his work than he'd first thought, Tim smiled. She'd clearly been shaken by the day's events, seeing him hurt. And if telling her what had happened, what he'd had to do, helped her to come to terms with it, then - well, so be it.

"Yes, Sarah, I did. In situations like that, you have to remember it's either their survival or yours. If I'd waited, or hesitated, for even a second, then… well, Tony and I would be dead right now.

And these are the decisions I have to make every day, Sarah, especially in situations like that ambush. It isn't easy, but… well, it's what I've been taught to do here. It's what I do. And Gibbs is the best teacher there is. I'm on _his_ team, Sarah. And that team is the best there is."

"Yeah, that's what he told me earlier," Sarah agreed, smiling back at him as she nodded agreement – as unaware as he was to the blue eyes that now crinkled, in proud approval, in the window behind them.

Watching them for several more moments, Gibbs then let his smile widen as he returned to his desk. Huddled together, Tim and Sarah McGee were so deep in conversation they hadn't even noticed him.

They were talking freely, on things they _had_ to talk about, and – yes, he could leave them to it now.


	8. Chapter 8 From Crossfire to Quickfire

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Aww, more reviews! Thanks so much, and apologies to all those who thought the story was already finished. I would say when it will end, but I don't think these plot-bunnies are quite finished yet!

Now, as you'll have guessed, Twisted Sister is one of my all time favourite episodes. At its end, as she looks back at him in that final scene, I thought Sarah had a new respect for her big brother. After everything poor Tim did for her, I'd certainly hope so! This is my idea on how she might have gained that respect. As always, I hope you enjoy!

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Eight - From Crossfire To Quickfire

If his sister ever gave up her dream of being a writer – yeah, she'd make a pretty good federal agent. She could already trace back a timeline, every bit as instinctively as he'd been taught at FLETC.

She certainly had the attitude, too. Then again, she'd had that attitude since she was eighteen months old. And, Tim McGee dryly noted, her talent and tenacity for interrogation were both right up there, too.

So yes, all she needed now was the anglepoise lamp, her own jacket - '_hell_, _she_'_s_ _already got my cap_…' and – yes, his Sarah could take on their toughest, roughest suspects, and break _them_ without breaking sweat.

Ten days ago, she'd barely known anything about what he did. Now she wanted to know _everything_.

Some questions had been easy to answer, of course, like what scared him about his job –

"Gibbs' driving-"

– what _really_ scared him about his job –

"Ziva's driving-"

– his fitness training –

"Hard-"

– how much trouble he was in because of his book –

"If that trouble were a mine, I'd probably see Australia-"

"Seriously?"

"Oh, you have no idea-"

– what it was like working with a Mossad assassin –

"Right now? Very, very scary-"

– and working with Tony –

"Right now and always? _Im_-possible."

Once they'd stopped laughing, she'd returned, as he'd known she would, to more serious matters – her latest question causing Tim's eyes to widen, in genuine surprise, that she was asking it now.

"Tim, I know you use all these techniques to… well, you know, make the bad guys fess up, but- well, did Gibbs use one of them on me last week? Did you _really_ resign because of me?"

Still frowning, Tim then smiled as he realized this was one question that he couldn't quip through. He had too much respect for her, _and_ Gibbs, to treat it with anything but the utmost honesty.

It was getting cold now, though, and he could feel his knee start to stiffen up again, so – yes, while that knee could still support him, this would be a good time for them to get back inside.

"No, Sarah, he wasn't messing with you. He'd never have insulted you like that," he said at last – hoping she'd missed the wince that crossed his face as he levered himself gingerly to his feet.

That teasing comparison to their grandfather, he ruefully noted, wasn't so far off the mark.

Luckily, Sarah was too busy supporting him, and keeping him upright, to make anything more of it – the expectancy on her face causing Tim to smile now, as he hugged her and nodded to the massive building behind them.

"Yes, I _did_ resign. My Director tried to make me choose between this place's integrity and yours, and - well, however much I love this job, Sarah, and these people I work with, I will _never_ cross that line.

Nothing comes above you, Sarah. Nothing means more to me than you, and mom, and dad. It never has, never will, and no-one will _ever_ change that."

Now it was Sarah's turn to stare as she recognized the pure determination on her brother's face – determination which, if anything, grew stronger against the woman who now hurried towards them.

As Sarah glanced nervously up at him, Tim smiled back at her, in a silent but unmistakeable promise. He'd stood his ground for her the previous week. He'd stand it for her again, just as fiercely, now, if Jenny Shepard said _anything_ to upset her.

They'd cleared the air between them already, of course, over tea in her office the previous week. But that didn't stop Tim McGee's arm from tightening protectively around his sister's shoulders – a gesture not missed by the woman who, just days ago, had forced him to make an impossible choice.

There'd be no such confrontation tonight, though. Instead, Jenny Shepard's face radiated real concern as she studied the young agent that she'd so nearly lost, _again_, today.

"Agent McGee? I heard you'd been hurt, and… good God, Tim, are you alright?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just a bit sore," Tim smiled, if ruefully, back at her as he glanced down at Sarah – hoping the wary glare on his sister's face didn't presage the burst of temper that usually followed.

He'd been caught in enemy crossfire once already today. He really didn't feel up to an albeit bulletless re-match.

Crossing fingers, toes, and everything else he physically could, he then stepped bravely into the breach.

"Ma'am, this is my sister. Sarah, this is Jenny Shepard - the Director of NCIS."

It took another gentle hug, and a nod of encouragement, but finally the glare lifted up into a smile – easing the tension between them as, if still rather hesitantly, Sarah McGee and Jenny Shepard shook hands.


	9. Chapter 9 United We Stand

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Well, the plot-bunnies seem to have tired themselves out, since they haven't come up with any more ideas - well, for this story, anyway! So that means we're in the final stretch - there are two more chapters to come after this, which I'll get posted in the next couple of days. They just need a bit more tweaking.

In the meantime - oh, let's get our poor, hurt Timothy inside, for some well deserved TLC... whether he wants that TLC, or not... ;o)

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Nine - United We Stand

They made a unique, and curiously watched, procession as they moved slowly through the bullpen – Tim McGee, limping heavily in its middle, his Director at his left side, his sister seemingly welded to his right.

Given what had happened between them the previous week, this was a truly amazing sight. As Gibbs dryly noted, that night's ballgame on DiNozzo's TV was suddenly second-choice viewing. And while he wasn't one for spectator sports, especially when one of his agents was the subject – well, for once he made an exception to that rule, as his eyes met McGee's in a silent, covert question.

'_Everything okay_?'

When a tired but grateful smile answered him, Gibbs just nodded as he watched them move past – allowing himself a quiet smile as, with considerable relief, Sarah eased her big brother into his chair. Even with all that weight he'd lost, supporting six foot one inch of hobbling brother _couldn't_ have been easy.

She'd never show it openly, of course, and she'd no doubt wait until they got home, so she wouldn't embarrass him, but – yeah, Gibbs had still guessed where that watchful concern on her face would eventually lead. Once they got home, all those years of fussing and fretting over her would be paid back to him, _big_ time.

McGee had clearly sensed her intentions, too, since he was already doing his best to forestall them – smiling back at her, in assurance that her hug around his shoulders was all the attention he needed.

He was perfectly okay, he was just tired, and his knee was aching a bit. He didn't need his little sister fussing over him.

Yeah, _right_.

One upturned trash-bin later, he had an improvised leg-rest, whether he wanted it or not – a raised eyebrow, and a quiet chuckle from Gibbs, warning him that arguing was _not_ an option.

A plaintive glance across the bullpen, to the source of that laughter, wasn't going to help him either. As Gibbs knew, _so_ well, arguing against one woman was hard. Arguing against two was impossible.

And when Ziva strode to his side with a tray of coffee in her hand, and a broad grin on her face – yes, for the second time that day, Tim McGee was in serious, hopelessly outnumbered trouble.

Watching him try to fend off this three-way attention, without losing those legendary manners, Gibbs grinned. If Abby came up, to fuss and flap over him, the poor kid would probably forget all about his injured knee, and run screaming for the hills.

And where was his back-up? The same, rock-steady back-up he knew he could _always_ rely on?

Oh, he was there, alright – slouched back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment.

Narrowing his eyes at him, Tim McGee then made that smirking back-up a silent, fervent promise.

'_Next time __you_'_re__ surrounded by mother-henning women_, _DiNozzo_, _I_'_m_ _gonna-_'

Whoa, back it up, McGenius. Mother-henning women and _DiNozzo_? In the same thought?

Damn, that tumble through those trash-cans had clearly scrambled his brains more than he'd realized. Pulling a face, Tim then shoved that thought to a place in his mind where he'd _never_ find it again.

It was a tired mind, too. Until he'd sat down, Tim hadn't realized how tired, and sore, he was. He was clearly concussed, too. How else could he explain what he'd just heard?

"Tim, I think you'd better get home to rest that leg properly. Don't you agree, Agent Gibbs?"

As five pairs of eyes – one green pair especially wide in amazement – swung towards him, Gibbs just smiled back. There were times, rare occasions, just like this one, where he just couldn't say no to Jenny Shepard.

Besides, she'd made a typically pragmatic point. Tim McGee really _was_ hurt. That pain on his face was worryingly genuine.

So yes, he deserved to be sent home. And she'd sent DiNozzo home when he wasn't even sick, so how could he possibly defy her now?

From her expression alone, Sarah couldn't wait to get him there either – her arm wrapping itself around him long before Tim eased himself, slowly and stiffly, to his feet.

Against her brother, she looked so small – very much the little sister that he'd fought so hard to protect. But as Gibbs proudly noted as their eyes met, there was a new strength to her now, a calm maturity – all of which boded well for the woman who, just days ago, had been ready to charge her with murder.

That was something he'd also admired about Jenny Shepard. A natural born diplomat - God knew, she needed to be, with him around - she could calm even the stormiest waters. And when she spoke as quietly, and sincerely, as this, Gibbs knew that she meant each and every word.

"I hope you realize, Sarah, that it was nothing personal. It was just that the evidence against you-"

"…was pretty stacked-" Sarah finished for her, nodding agreement as she glanced at her brother. "Yes, ma'am, I know. Tim explained that, and… well, I can understand that now. It's okay."

Smiling back, just as warmly, Jenny caught Gibbs' eye for a moment - sharing his proud approval for this new, crucial understanding on Sarah McGee's face.

As she'd seen, so starkly today, her brother worked in dangerous times, against dangerous people – and the greatest weapon he had to fight them wasn't his gun, or any other weaponry at his disposal.

It was his family, both real and otherwise, standing in unity behind him. And in his little sister, this young woman who now held onto him, with such strength and pride, that fight had just become a little bit easier.


	10. Chapter 10 We're Goin' Through Changes

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Well, this is _definitely_ the second to last chapter! It's had a few re-writes, mind you, but I hope you enjoy this final version, which also holds my explanation for Tim and Sarah's sleeping arrangements.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who's wondered about that in the past - let's face it, there's only one bed! But in season two's Red Cell, where Sarah first appears, and when Tim's getting dressed during Tony and Kate's razz-raid, I'm sure there's a sleeping bag lying next to the bedroom door. Mind you, with poor Tim running around in his boxers, it was rather hard to concentrate!

By the way, the title for this chapter comes from the song Changes, by Ozzy and Kelly Osbourne. I know it was written for their father/ daughter relationship, but I think some of those very beautiful, and poignant, lyrics could also apply to Tim and Sarah - especially after the events in Twisted Sister. By the time that episode finishes, I think Tim realizes that his little sister has grown up, and he has to accept that, however much he still wants to protect her, that aspect of their relationship has changed.

I know it wasn't mentioned in the episode whether Sarah could drive, but since Tim was given a car for his sixteenth birthday, I would imagine that Sarah had the same for hers. I think she'd certainly have her own car by the time she got to college. So with a bit of writer's licence, and just to give her and Tim something more to argue about in this chapter, I've given her that privilege here. Poor Timothy - his suffering just doesn't stop! ;o)

As always, I hope you enjoy! Oh, and you might want to keep some antacid handy, 'cos Sarah's invented a new pizza. Like I said, the suffering just doesn't stop... ;o)

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Ten - We're Goin' Through Changes

His bed. Until now, Tim McGee hadn't fully appreciated how cosy, comfy, and just plain un-getoutable, that bed was. To six foot one inch of tired, sore, and aching body, he was stretched out in snugly firm, king-size luxury.

The pillow under his knee was a nice touch, too. Not really necessary, of course, but – yeah, along with the glass of water that Sarah had left for him, and some painkillers on the bedside table, it was still kinda nice.

She made a surprisingly good nursemaid, in fact. Not a bad driver, either. To his relief, and even greater amazement, his prized and proudly beloved Porsche was still in one piece.

Easing back into the nest of pillows behind him, Tim smiled as he recalled the increasingly one-sided argument they'd had over how to get him home.

He'd insisted that he was still fit enough to drive. She'd insisted, with equal force, and twice as much bloody-mindedness, that he wasn't.

By the time they'd reached the parking lot, he'd been too tired to raise much more of a fight - especially when she'd grabbed the keys out of his pocket and, taking full advantage of his inability to stop her, stubbornly refused to give them back.

When had she passed her test, anyway? It was clearly the meds kicking in, but for the life of him, he just couldn't remember.

Snuggling down further, into a haven of pure pleasure, Tim let his thoughts continue to drowsily drift. Yes, she was spoiling him, and fretting over him, but… no, all things considered, he didn't mind. Just as _she_'_d_ hopefully felt, each time he'd fussed and fretted over her, it made him feel loved.

And the aroma of freshly made pizza that now wafted under his nose made him feel – hungry.

Well, hungry until he opened his eyes, and saw its combination of toppings. Then he just felt ill.

'_Jeez_, _as if I haven't suffered enough today_'

Pulling a face, and wishing he'd fallen asleep just a few seconds faster, Tim then sighed – guessing, from Sarah's bright smile, that she'd just invented a brand new favourite recipe. And since his sister told him _everything_ – oh yeah, she was going to tell him all about it.

'_Oh_, _yippee-_'

"Chorizo, tuna, chillies and cranberry jelly," she said at last, proudly inspecting her latest creation – so absorbed in taste-testing it that she didn't notice her brother disappear, in utter despair, under his duvet.

Not even that offered him safety, though, from his little sister's revolting taste in… well, _taste_. To a soft groan of frustration, a corner of his sanctuary lifted up, to let that truly revolting stench _in_.

"Want some?"

"No, I'll just chow down on this pillow. I think I'll like it better-"

Realizing that had come out sharper than he'd meant, Tim's head then cautiously re-appeared – the apology he started to make to her turning, halfway through, into an equally puzzled question.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for. You know how cranky I get when… hey, what are you doing with my bed-roll?"

"Making _that_ up to sleep in," Sarah replied, frowning slightly as she nodded towards his easy-chair. "I mean, you're hardly going to want me bunking in with you tonight, are you?"

Regardless of his still churning stomach, Tim couldn't help but smile as he studied her face – seeing as many emotions chase across it as there were toppings on that nauseating pizza.

Concern. Lingering hurt that he'd snapped at her. A little guilt of her own, that she'd disturbed him. Real willingness to forsake her comfort for his, and spend the rest of the night scrunched in that chair.

Mostly, though, he saw the unsaid hope that he'd sigh, then smile – and selflessly talk her out of it.

He was already indulging her with the first part. And the second part was, inevitably, following too. So that just left number three, and… yeah, after the day they'd both had, that wasn't hard either.

"Hey, we've _both_ had a rough day. We both need decent sleep tonight, so… come on, it's okay-"

The offer she'd silently longed to hear. Yet even as she smiled back at him, Sarah didn't take it up. Instead, she nodded towards the sling which had been gratefully discarded on the bedside table.

"No, Tim, I can't. I mean, what if I knock your arm? Or your knee? I don't want to hurt you, Tim, and-"

"You won't if you sleep over here," Tim assured her, still grinning as he patted the right side of his mattress – swaying her with the offer she hadn't been able to resist since her first attack of toddler-monsters.

"C'mon, scoot in-"

When those toddler-monsters had first struck, all those years ago, she'd 'scooted-in' without a second thought – straight under the bedclothes, where she'd wrapped herself around him like a tiny, four-limbed limpet.

Now, though, as she shook out his bed-roll beside him, and crawled carefully into it, Tim watched her with silently mixed emotions. That memory of his four year old sister fell away from him now, in realization that he still found so hard to accept.

She wasn't that tiny, fragile little toddler any more, who'd climb in to sleep, so innocently, beside him. She was a young woman. Strong. Beautiful. Independent. So damn brave that she'd just brought tears to his eyes.

He was immeasurably proud of her. More so now than ever before, he was so very, _very_, proud. As she leaned companionably against him, still keeping _that_ precious bond between them, Tim smiled – silently vowing to himself that he'd tell her that more often.

First things first, though, and –

"Sarah?"

"What?"

"Lose the pizza."


	11. Chapter 11 McHero

My Brother, My Friend by ceilidh

A/N: Well, here we are - the end of another story. Thanks to all of you who have taken the time, and trouble, to leave your comments, suggestions and encouragement. They have all been appreciated, and I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

So, there's just this one last chapter left, for Tim and Sarah to reflect on what's happened between them. I wanted them both to enjoy it, too, so there's a reference to another of my all-time favourite scenes. I'll just say it's one of Tim's finest moments from season two, and let you enjoy the memory when it comes :o)

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks again for sharing this story with me, and I hope to be back here soon :o)

My Brother, My Friend

Chapter Eleven - McHero

She'd done it in her own unique, little sister way, of course, but – yes, thank God. She'd done it. His little sister had selflessly taken one for her long suffering brother.

She'd lost the pizza.

Well, for the sake of accuracy, she'd _eaten_ it, rather than lost it - and if he hadn't been so tired, Tim McGee might have pursued that pedantic detail further. Right now, though, he was too sleepily happy to bother. Thanks to Sarah's cast-iron stomach, and a merciful sloosh of mouthwash, that pizza, and its truly awful stench, were gone.

She'd even given his bedroom a quick spritz of freshener, too, just to chase away any lingering tinges of tuna-wrapped chorizo.

She'd also refilled his glass of water, and made sure that the apartment was securely locked up for the night. Just like her brother, Sarah McGee didn't do anything by half-measures.

Now, snuggled up in his haven of warm, comfy, lavender-tinged peace, Tim knew he could finally settle down to sleep. Eyes closed, and under a pleasant hum of painkillers, he was pretty much there already.

"Tim?"

Then again, he dryly reflected, maybe not. And after scoffing down that truly revolting pizza –

"Sarah, if you've come down with colic after eating that thing, you're on your own, and- _ow_!"

Gently rubbing his ribs, Tim then glared, as best he could, into a grin of mischievous innocence.

"You know, it's a federal offence to pinch a federal agent-"

It wasn't, of course – although right now, that law to protect him would come in damn handy. Some respect would be nice, too, but – yeah, who the hell was he trying to kid?

"Yeah, bite me-"

Oh yes, she had _such_ respect for him. Well, okay, two could play at that game.

"With all that junk sloshing round your bloodstream? I'd rather bite Tony-"

"_Really_? Hey, you could put that in your next book!"

"Sarah-"

Okay, so she'd still sniggered against his chest, but that no-nonsense, big-brother tone had still worked – for all of ten seconds.

"Tim?"

'_Aw_, _for crying out loud_, _what __now_?

"Mmm?"

"Did you really tell Director Shepard to stick it?"

Blinking back at her, totally thrown, Tim then smiled at the return of an especially priceless memory.

He'd been shaking like a leaf, of course, when he'd said it, but everyone in MTAC had still stood to applaud him, and – yes, he'd remember that day, and the proud approval he'd seen on Gibbs' face when he'd returned, for the rest of his life.

Prompted by a thankfully gentler nudge in his ribs, Tim let that smile widen to a happily proud grin. Oh, he was going to enjoy this!

"No, Sarah, _that_ was the SecNav-"

He'd kept that answer cryptic for a reason. To his brotherly mischievous delight, it had worked. Sarah was staring up at him now, in such disbelief that, for a full ten seconds, she was speechless.

That was nice, of course, but – well, re-living that wonderful memory was going to be even better. And while she was way too old now for a bedtime story - hell, just this once, he'd gladly make an exception.

"Tony had gone missing, during an assignment where he'd gone undercover. This was shortly after I'd joined the team, and - well, I was still pretty green then. So I was left behind while Gibbs and Kate went out to look for him, and - well, she kept calling for Gibbs, disrupting our investigation, and hampering our search for Tony.

She wouldn't let it go, and she made it pretty clear that she didn't want to talk to me. So I called Gibbs for advice, and - well, it was _his_ idea. _He_ told me to say it-"

"But _you_ actually told her," Sarah broke in, grinning up at him with a new, if mischievous, respect.

"_My_ big brother told the Secretary of the Navy to stick it! Hey, respect for the geek-boy!"

If he'd not been so tired, or enjoying the memory so much himself, Tim might have chastised her. Instead, he glared at her, as best he could, before helpless laughter took both of them over.

"She's still scary, though. Director Shepard, I mean. I don't think even Gibbs would want to argue with her too often," Sarah said at last – dissolving back, into helpless giggles, for the mischievous whisper which then tickled into her ear.

"_You_'_re_ scarier-"

Still giggling, Sarah then glanced up at him, raising her eyebrow in another challenge to his loyalty.

"So you reckon I could take her? _And_ the SecNav?"

"In a heartbeat," Tim grinned, winking at her, before yawning through an equally playful afterthought. "In fact, right now, you could probably take _me-_"

Sensing the real tiredness behind his light-hearted words, Sarah let that teasing pass without a reply - her smile fading slightly as she watched his eyes close again, onto a face that was still pale with pain.

He was hurt. He needed rest, and she was stopping him from finding it. So instead, in thoughtful silence, she lay watching him until her brother drifted, still smiling, into a sanctuary of healing sleep.

A brother with so many responsibilities. So many burdens. So many people, herself included, _all_ relying on him.

He had a different name, too, that went with every one of those responsibilities, and colleagues, and friends. McGee. McGeek. McGoo. Probie.

Another quietly joined them now. It was so simple, and she knew he couldn't hear it to appreciate it. But as Sarah McGee smiled, and proudly kissed her sleeping brother's cheek, she knew it suited him perfectly.

"Sweet dreams, McHero-"

As she settled against him, Sarah didn't see the smile which now broadened across her brother's face.

McHero?

Given all those countless, less flattering alternatives - yeah, Tim McGee decided, he could live with that.


End file.
